Erase
by IAmTheMedusa
Summary: Sherlock wants John, but John says no...Sherlock/John - Slash - Rated : M - Don't own obviously...
1. John says no

**New story.**

**But I'm still working on the sequel of Swimming in blood and will update soon.**

**Hope you'll like it.**

**Read and Review, please :)**

**Chapter 1** – John says no.

His cold blue eyes where on John. He was standing very close. He was still a little breathless after the long chase in London's streets. He bent his head and stopped two inches away from John lips.

"Stop doing this Sherlock" John said " I already told you no." He was irritated. Since the event of the previous week, living with Sherlock had been an everyday battle. Escaping his gaze, escaping his touch was harder than ever, since the tall man had decided to drag the doctor in his bed willing or not.

"Why?" Sherlock whispered putting his hands on John's waist. The doctor grabbed forcibly the detective's wrists.

"I don't want this Sherlock, _I don't_!" He let go of Sherlock's wrists with a look which said _don't you dare do this again._

"Why?" The tall man asked again.

"For God's sake..." John moved away from Sherlock and left without adding a word. He came back to 221B Baker street and locked himself in his room.

His room, the exact place where everything began eight days ago.

… … …

John had worked a double shift (day and night) at the hospital and was completely worn. He only wanted to fall on his mattress and sleep twelve hours straight so he directly went up his room. He had laid for a minute and a half when the bedroom door opened and Sherlock came in.

"John?" He asked softly "John, you didn't even came in the sitting room to salute me, how rude of you." John growled "I've been missing you John" The tall man said.

"Sherlock, can you miss me another twelve hours please, I'm really, really tired." John said eyes closed.

"Mmmm, no." The detective sat on the bed. John sighed.

"Please Sherlock don't be selfish..." He said opening his eyes. To his great surprise Sherlock was leaning really close to him. It was so unexpected that John didn't even think of moving away and suddenly he felt hot lips on his. His eyes opened wide. What was happening? Was he hallucinating? Had Sherlock gone mental? He felt a wet tongue running on his bottom lip and came back to reality. He put his hands on Sherlock's chest and pushed him so violently that the thin man fell on the floor.

"Bloody hell Sherlock, what are you doing?" John shouted whilst sitting on the bed.

"That's remotely what I expected John. Why did you do that?" The detective sat on the floor and looked at John with puppy eyes.

"Why did I do that? Why did...Sherlock, you assault me!" John yelled throwing his hands in Sherlock's direction in an angry gesture.

"I didn't assault you, John, I kissed you." Sherlock was perfectly calm.

"Why?" John was hysterical.

"Because I wanted to."

"Because..." John almost choked. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands. "Sherlock," he said calmer than before "what made you think I wanted you to kiss me?" He asked and Sherlock tilted his head as if he didn't understand the question.

"Because I wanted to, don't you listen?" He answered.

John took several minute to calm himself, he had to, he was about to jump out of the bed to shake Sherlock and probably punch him in the face yelling _fucking silly bastard, you mad sociopath! _

That wouldn't have helped.

"Sherlock," he took another deep breath "I don't want to kiss you, I don't have any interest in you, not in that way. You can't..." John looked in the sociopath's eyes "You can't kiss me like that. You can't assume that because you want something you can have it. And, by the way, where does this kissing thing comes from?" He stared at the man on the floor, waiting for a reasonable answer.

"I'm attracted to you, I'm quite obsessed by the idea of kissing you an having sex with you. It's intriguing and I want to explore the concept, understand why." He was really satisfied by his explanations, John wasn't.

"Right, let's say I understand that, only because I'm tired and I don't want to argue but there is a point really really important you've missed in your answer." He paused "You didn't even think that I could absolutely _not_ agree to that, that I don't want to kiss you, that I don't want to have sex with you!" John was amazed by his own patience.

"Because you do like me." Sherlock added matter of factly.

"Not in that way, Sherlock." John sighed.

"Don't lie to yourself John." Sherlock frowned.

John got up and grabbed Sherlock arm, making him stand. He pushed him out of his room.

"You may be a genius but you don't know everything Sherlock, now I want you out of my room, don't come back uninvited. We won't talk about this tomorrow, we won't talk about this ever. Go down, do whatever you want but let me sleep. Goodnight!" He slammed the door to Sherlock's face. John stood there for a minute or two, stunned, then he rubbed his face, jumped in his bed and fell asleep.

When he woke up in the late afternoon, John felt dizzy. He was dehydrated. He sat on the bed and noticed he forgot to undress when he got to bed.

He went out of his room and down the stairs, he needed to drink something. When he entered the kitchen Sherlock was sitting on a chair reading the evening paper, he didn't bother to move or say anything. John put water in the kettle and plugged it. He sat on a kitchen chair and put his head in his arms with a low growl. When he finally look up, he saw a mug full of tea right in front of him and Sherlock standing close to the table. John sat straight and stared at his flatmate.

"Thanks..." He said cautiously.

"You're welcome, did you rest well?" Sherlock looked concerned.

"Well, yes, thank you." John cradled his mug.

Sherlock moved closer and tangled his hand in John's hair. The blond haired man made a sharp move to get rid of his flatmates hand.

"Sherlock, stop it." He protested standing up abruptly. His mug overturned on the table and tea splashed on his trousers. "Shit!" Sherlock grabbed a towel and took a step closer to John "Oh no you won't!"

… … …

John heard a knock at his door.

"John, I know you're in here, don't pretend you're not. Anyway I just want to tell you Lestrade called. I'm expected at the Yard in half an hour. Do you want to accompany me?"

John didn't answer, he knew his silence was enough and soon he heard Sherlock going down the stairs.

Eight days since the kiss. Eight long and awkward days.

… … ...

After the tea incident John has tried to avoid physical proximity with his flatmate. He has deserted the sofa and sat now on a chair which wasn't comfortable to watch telly but was safer. He was now taking evening instead of morning showers because he knew he wouldn't cross Sherlock's path. He also had changed his shifts at the hospital just to be outside at meal time, just to avoid eating with (or in front of) the brown man (and most of all having tea!).

That was a little too much maybe, but John felt better.

Sherlock on the other side didn't look well.

The consultant detective was completely lost. Wooing somebody wasn't in his area of expertise. He had made research on the subject but found he had made a mistake trying to kiss John that night. That move hadn't been subtle enough (no subtle at all, really). He did try to change his strategy but John was too frighten to let Sherlock touch him. Now the doctor was childishly avoiding him. Not good. Not good at all.

He was frustrated. He wanted John. He had really graphic thoughts of them in bed, touching and licking each other on various places, pleasurable places of course.

Something needed to be done, John couldn't escape Sherlock forever and the detective decided to keep on working on the doctor's shields.

He used some ruses.

He needed John to get used to him, as a man, not a flatmate so he decided to stop buttoning his shirt when he was in the apartment, put his bare feet on the coffee table or run his hand in his hair in what he thought was a seductive way every time John was watching him.

No results.

He tried to talk more to the busy doctor (who spent most of his time out working, to avoid him).

No results.

How stubborn the man was!

… … ...

John was alone in the flat. It felt strange and he needed something normal, something simple in his life right now. He picked up his phone and called Sarah.

They agreed to see each other at her place an hour later.

When Sarah saw John's face, she opened her eyes wide.

"You look awful, John." She said a soft smile on her lips.

"I feel awful thank you." The doctor answered in a breath.

They ordered Chinese take away food (yes it was Sherlock and John's food but he couldn't consider this a betrayal), and opened a bottle of wine.

They talked, mostly about Sherlock, even if John couldn't make himself mention the detective's attempts to seduce him.

Sarah was nice and compassionate. She was pretty too so John lean forward for a gentle kiss. Sarah put her hand on John's cheek and kissed him back. John closed his eyes and ran his hand on her soft short black curls...Wait...WHAT?

John broke off the kiss, backed down on the sofa and opened his eyes.

"What? What is it John?" The woman asked surprised.

"Oh...Nothing, sorry..." He rubbed his face "I...I have a lot in my mind and sometimes I just can't control my thoughts." He smiled shyly, this was a lame excuse.

"Right, it's okay, do I open a second bottle?"

"Ah...I don't think so, look I'm terribly sorry, Sarah, but I have to go. I know it's sudden, I'm sorry, I'll make amend for that." He got up and grabbed his jacket which was on an armchair. "Don't be mad at me please..." He asked with puppy eyes and Sarah smiled.

"Go away, John, see you in two days."

John needed air.

What the hell happened in his silly head? Sarah had long straight auburn hair for God's sake.

Sherlock was viciously going in his head. That was enough, he had to end this. As he walked back to the 221B, he had a lot of ideas of how to end this, but all of them included physical assault and sometimes blood. That couldn't do. So he walked a little longer just to calm himself.

Finally he came back determined to end this and erase these eight strange days from his head and, most of all, from Sherlock's head.

… … …

Angelo was a friend of Sherlock, well, sort of. So when he called to ask the detective to help him prove his cook was a thief he accepted. It wasn't a big challenge but Sherlock was bored. When he asked John's help, the doctor looked suspicious but agreed because he thought that Sherlock's mind would be entirely on the case. He was right and wrong.

They caught the cook red handed and followed him to see who was his reseller. At some point they had to run – a belligerent seller – and found themselves in a deserted alley where Sherlock tried to kiss John and failed.

Frustration.

And sadness. Sadness? How could a sociopath feel sad?

Just like that it seems. Just because of John's rejection.

Just because he refused to opened the door, refused to answer.

Now he was out.

At Sarah's.

Kissing her.

Frustration.

Sherlock was lying on the sofa when he heard the door opening and footsteps on the stairs. When the apartment door opened he saw an angry John coming in the living room and frowned.

"Sherlock you're here," he said in a controlled voice "good, I'd like to talk to you."

"Of course John, what do you want to talk about?" The detective said sitting on the sofa.

"Well..." John sighed and sat on the sofa as far as he could from his flatmate "Sherlock, I've spent the last week, the last eight days more precisely, avoiding you," he took a glimpse of Sherlock's face which was completely blank, of course he had noticed the change in his behaviour, it wasn't a surprise for him "because of the things you wanted to do to me or with me, whatever." blank face "You've spent the whole week trying to seduce me even if I told you to stop. I know avoiding you was childish but talking to you led to nothing, I had no choice." Frown, at least a reaction. "Today I talk to you because I want something from you, I want you to stop it, stop hounding me." He paused and looked in the detective's grey eyes.

"One condition." The baritone said.

"Sherlock!"

"Just one condition, and it's over."

"What? What condition Sherlock?"

"I want you to kiss me."

"Sherlock you didn't listen! I was talking a minute ago, do you know that?"

"I heard you perfectly well, John. This time _you _listen to me. Kiss me once, just this one time and I will know what being attracted to you means. If it's curiosity it will be satisfied. If it's more and you don't want to share it with me, I'll lock it up in a corner of my mind or erase it."

"Erase it?"

"Yes, like all the things I don't need, the things that hamper my thinking."

"Is this some kind of trick?" John asked eyes narrowed.

"What would be the trick? Your far stronger than me, I can't physically make you do something you don't want. And you claim you are not attracted to me so you won't enjoy it. All I'm asking is one kiss to help me sort this out. I need a favour here. Please."

Sorting this out, this was what John wanted most. He needed this to stop. If kissing Sherlock was the only way to end this he could do it, right? John nodded silently.

"Okay then, one kiss and it's over, right?"

"Right." Sherlock moved on the sofa to sit closer to the blond man "Shall we proceed?" he asked and John sighed.

"Have you ever kissed before? I mean, except me..."

"Of course, John."

"Okay, sorry, let's go then."

They were sitting face to face now. Sherlock raised his hand to cup John's left cheek then leant slowly closer to John. He stopped an inch away from the doctor's lips and watched his mouth intently. He heard the other man's jerky breathing and leant closer.

John was scared, did he really accept to kiss his flatmate? He had sledgehammer arguments to make him accept this but he knew something wasn't right here. He just couldn't find what. Sherlock's mouth was half an inch from his now, he was taking his time, that was not fair. John wanted this to be over. He was feeling Sherlock's breath on his face, smelling Sherlock's smell, felling Sherlock's warmth. That was almost too much to bear. He needed this to end.

"Sherlock kiss me now!" He said.

"Thought you'd never ask." The brown man said before covering John's mouth with his. He moved his hand from John's cheek to his hair and surrounded his waist with his other arm. He brushed his lips slowly, sensually and a growl escaped from John's throat.

Did he really asked Sherlock to kiss him? What was wrong with him?

He felt the brown haired man's lips on his, soft and slow, and his arm around him. That was dangerous, it was a dangerous path. Sherlock's chest against his, that felt good, that felt too good, it shouldn't feel that good. No. John growled but why exactly?

The detective ran his tongue along the doctor's lower lip then took it between his teeth. John's mouth opened, Sherlock didn't hesitate and slid his tongue inside. He reinsure his grip on the blond man's hair and waist and leaned closer, his upper body fit John's perfectly. The doctor tangled his hands in Sherlock's hair and opened his mouth wider. Their tongues duelled lazily.

John's brain was completely overwhelmed by sensations. He let them flow under his skin. Sherlock's tongue was circling his and he enjoyed it so much he allowed the detective to go deeper.

Sherlock moved from John's mouth to his jawline then his earlobe, he nipped lightly and drew a moan from the blond man's throat.

John was lost in Sherlock's embrace, his mouth was so soft, his kisses so warm.

He realised he wanted this.

He wanted Sherlock.

From scary to scarier.

John opened his eyes and struggled in Sherlock's embrace.

"Enough!" He almost yelled.

Sherlock let go of John and the blond man jumped on his feet. He was burning with anger and shivering with desire at the same time. He was burning with anger because he was shivering with desire. He forced himself to look at the man on the sofa and was shocked to see his blushed face, his dark eyes, he was breathing heavily and was obviously fighting the urge to bring John back in his arms.

"What will it be Sherlock?" he asked bitterly.

"Erase." the brown man answered in a low voice.

John stormed out of the living room and climbed the stairs two steps at a time, then slammed his bedroom door. He leant back on it and sighed. He slid down the floor and put his face in his hands.


	2. Back to normal

Angel-Castiel : Thank you, hope you will like this chapter too.

Miss Crookshanks : Where will it go? Is Sherlock capable of erasing John? Let's see shall we ? :)

Carambar : So sorry for the bad spelling (eight/height). I let OpenOffice correct for me (bad idea -_-). But it's okay now. I'm sure more mistakes are hiding themselves in this chapter (or shouting they are here :)). Anyway thanks!  
>Jak's Catt : Here comes the new chapter :)<strong><br>**

**Please read and review.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2 – Back to normal.**

He had what he wanted, Sherlock decided to erase this mad infatuation. Everything would be back to normal soon. He wouldn't have to cowardly run from the brown haired man anymore. He would be himself again.

Knowing that didn't make him sleep better.

Sherlock didn't sleep at all. He was cataloguing things, moments and sensations. He had told John he would erase his lust for him. He needed to know what provoked it. When. Why.

The morning came.

John sat on the bed and rubbed his face with both hands. He didn't feel well and wanted to stay under the covers, cowardice, again. He forced himself to get up, put clothes on and went down the stairs. The living room was bathed in a gloomy light coming from a crack on the closed curtains. He crossed the room and opened them. When he turned his back to the window he saw Sherlock lying on the sofa, eyes close.

"John would you be kind and make tea please." He said softly while opening his eyes.

"Isn't it what I always do first thing or so in the morning?" John answered smiling lightly. He was glad everything seemed quite normal.

"Yes it is." Sherlock said in the same soft voice.

John went to the kitchen and prepared the mugs.

Sherlock's phone rang, he answered quickly and spoke fast. A case.

"John, get your coat we have a possible murder to solve." He almost sang.

"Tea first" John smiled again.

"No time!"

"Yes time! Two minutes."

Three minutes later they were on a cab.

"Will you tell me where we are going?" John inquired.

"John you heard the address"

"Yes I heard" John laughed.

"You seem quite happy today John. Is there a specific reason?"

"Everything is normal that's all." John looked at Sherlock's face.

"Why would it be otherwise?" The detective said looking back at his flatmate.

_Erase._

The corpse was lying on his back all blue and puffy. Obviously drown. Lestrade and, unfortunately, Anderson were standing close to the body having a lively conversation. No doubt it was about Sherlock being called at the crime scene because the man gave the detective a furious glare when he passed him to talk directly to the DI.

"You can call back the lousy forensics, we are here now." Sherlock said to Lestrade.

"Piss off you freak," Anderson yelled "who do you think you are?"

"Easy Anderson," John intervened. He was short but his eyes were deterrent enough and Anderson walked away cursing the detective and his _puppy dog._

John was angry but when he looked in Sherlock's eyes he calmed down a little.

"Do you always have to do that?" He asked in a sight.

"I can't help it, this man is so useless and full of himself." The detective answered with a knowing air and John smiled again. He couldn't deny Anderson was a prat.

"Well, the victim, a male in his late forties, was found two hours ago by a jogger, he'd been in the water two or three days and has no visible bruises except for this one." He pointed at the corpse's leg "And...that's all. You can understand why I called you." Lestrade was annoyed by Sherlock's behaviour but he needed him more than Anderson now so he chose to ignore what just happened.

Sherlock put on latex gloves and moved around the body like a cat, watching it closely. The doctor and the DI witnessed the strange ballet in silence.

"John?" the detective finally said looking up in the doctor's direction.

It was time for John to give his diagnostic. He made his own dance around the body.

"What do you think?" Sherlock whispered, the two men were crouching down by the cadaver. John looked up at the detective's face.

"Dead almost three days ago, maybe more, can't be more precise because of the water's action on the body. He has a hole in his trouser, here on his thigh, and a scratch on his skin, maybe he fell and hurt himself right before he drown, but once again it's hard to tell. No head injury, mouth full of water, lungs also, eyes streamed with red because of the asphyxiation. Nothing special under his nails. I'd say he fell or jumped on the water. Accident or suicide." John has spoken in a low voice only Sherlock could hear and he saw Lestrade loosing patience from the corner of his eye.

"Suicide," Sherlock said in a loud voice to Lestrade's benefit, his eyes where still on John's when he kept talking "the man worked in an office, banker or trader, recently divorced – ring mark even after 3 days in the water - expensive clothes – he tore the pants when he jumped - but no shoes, find the shoes you'll find the bridge he jumped from. Right handed, you'll find a suicide note in his right pocket. Don't think he wrote it with waterproof ink though." Sherlock stood up.

John smiled and shook his head a little, after several months he was still amazed by the consultant detective's power of deduction. He stood up to and gave a sharp nod to Lestrade before following Sherlock's trail. The man had reached the police car. Suddenly somebody pushed him and he fell back on the car's hood.

"You arsehole, you insulted me!" Anderson shouted before punching Sherlock in the face, he tried to do it again but John was on him. He caught the man by his shoulder and pulled him away from Sherlock. Anderson lost his balance and fell on the floor. John grabbed the man's collar with his right hand and punched him three times before Lestrade and three police officers forced him to stop.

"I hurt your master puppy dog?" Anderson spat blood. Two of the officers where helping him stand up whilst the third one was ordering John to calm down, which didn't work well.

"John?" Sherlock called and John forgot about Anderson and turned to the detective who was now sitting on the floor. The blow have split his lower lip and he was bleeding.

"Sherlock, are you all right? Let me see your mouth." John put his hands on each side of Sherlock's head and leaned closer to his face. The lips has already started to swell he checked his eyes and his skull moving his fingers in his hair just to be sure everything was in order. "Probably no head trauma, but you need ice for your lip."

"Home, please..." The detective said then he moaned and frowned, it hurt.

John put his arm around the injured man's waist and stood up slowly. Lestrade yelled a taxi and gave the cabbie the address.

In the cab Sherlock leaned back on John's chest while the doctor cleaned up the blood on his chin with a tissue.

"You're an impossible man Sherlock. Look what you've done."

"Not me, Anderson!" Sherlock said and he moaned again, he wasn't used to feel this kind of pain, he'd never been punched in the face before.

"If you hadn't been so mean with him he wouldn't have lost his temper."

"You lost yours."

"That's not the same."

"Why?"

"Sherlock," John sighed "I couldn't let him punch you, as pissed off as he could have been he had no right to punch you."

"You were angry."

"Stop talking, I know it hurts!" The doctor ordered.

They spent the next ten minutes in silence. Sherlock closed his eyes, tried to ignore the pain and enjoyed John's chest warmth on his back.

_Erase._

Sherlock wanted to lie down on the sofa but John made him rest his back on a pillow instead.

"I'd rather have you in a siting position, just to be sure you don't have a concussion. Tell me if you need to throw up," Sherlock made a face "I know it's not glamourous, but if you throw up I'll have to take you to the hospital," another face "and don't pretend you're not ill if you are! I'm going down, see if Mrs Hudson has enough ice or both of us."

Explaining the reason why he needed ice to Mrs Hudson took John much longer than he thought since she was shaken by the idea of Sherlock and John being in a fight with someone and the doctor had to reassure the old lady before being allowed to come back to his place. When he came back in the living room Sherlock seemed to be asleep. John put ice in two plastic bags and surrounded them with tea towels. Then he crossed the living room and kneeled close to the sofa, he rested his left hand on his knees and put one bag on it and with his right hand he gently pressed the other one on Sherlock's mouth. The detective opened his eyes and looked sideways at John.

"Thanks..." He whispered before closing his eyes again.

"You're welcome." John whispered back.

He looked at the detective's face trimmed with black curls, his closed eyes, his straight nose and his full lips, almost feminine lips, now swollen. He thought about the kiss, about these lips on his, on his jawline, on his ear. He had enjoyed the kiss, too much. Sherlock had erased the moment, he made him, asked him, he had to do it too. He looked up again, Sherlock eyes were open now and he was watching him silently.

"Do you feel sick?" John asked.

"No." Another whisper.

"Hold the ice on your face, I'm going to make tea." Sherlock brushed unintentionally John's hand whilst taking the bag and the doctor held his breath for a second, fortunately the brown man didn't seem to notice.

John made tea arguing with himself about his behaviour.

He came back with two mugs on a tray. He put it on the coffee table. He was about to sit on a chair but changed his mind and sat at the end of the sofa. They were both holding their bag of ice and it made him chuckle.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Look at us." John laughed and the detective smiled a little.

Two hours later John was watching television and Sherlock was asleep – yes asleep, counter shock probably – lying on the sofa legs bent in an uncomfortable position. John knew he'd be stiff when he'd woke up. He hesitated a long time but decided to unfold Sherlock's legs and rest his feet on his lap. He did so very gently, at some point the brown haired man sighed in his sleep, he didn't wake up though.

Sherlock woke up in the middle of the night to see a sleeping John at the end of the sofa. He removed his feet from the blond haired man's lap and sat. He leaned close to him and whispered in his ear.

"Wake up John."

John's head rolled from left to right. He was now face to face with the brown haired man who whispered again. "John, wake up."

The doctor opened his eyes and met Sherlock's gaze. They stared at each other for several seconds.

"Are you all right?" John broke the silence.

"I thought I had to wake you." Sherlock said the first words that crossed his mind.

"Yeah I can see that," John whispered "why?"

"I thought you weren't in a comfortable position." yes that was a good excuse but why did he wanted John awake exactly, he had a reason but couldn't remember it.

_(Erase)_

"Well you may be right. It might be better for me to sleep in my bed." John sat straighter - so did Sherlock. His body was numb, he stretched it throwing his arms above his head and yawned loudly then he looked back at Sherlock's face and frowned. He put his hand on the detective's left cheek and made him turn his head so he could see his bruises on the TV screen light.

"You're lip is less swollen but it's all red and blue now. You have a large bruise on your lip and chin." He looked in Sherlock's eyes and smiled. The detective's expression was hard to decipher, what was he thinking right now? John let his hand slid along Sherlock's cheek.

"Better go to bed now," He sighed "goodnight Sherlock." He got up and left the room.

"Goodnight..." Sherlock said a moment later.

_(Erase?)_


	3. Anger, insanity and love

Miss Crookshanks : Oooh Sugar Cookies Thank You! Are you ready for conflicted John ? :)  
>Boobunny60 : Yes I love when John punches Anderson (because I really don't like Anderson! and 3 times is not enough!) :)<br>Jak's Catt : blush *^^*  
>The Science Of Seduction : Here for you more emotions !<br>TillIFindYou : Here it comes, hope you'll like it :)

Hey! As always Thank You!

Soooo, What will John do? And Sherlock, what does he want?

Let's see, shall we?

Enjoy and, please, Read and Review.

**Chapter 3 – Anger, insanity and love.**

That night John laid on his bed watching the ceiling. He was thinking. About Sherlock. About what he felt. _"Don't lie to yourself, John."_ He remembered Sherlock's words the night he kissed him for the first time.

They had shared more looks and touch in the last day than in...well they've never touched and look that way before.

He liked being with Sherlock, close to him, and, God, he was a bloody good kisser. He tried to refrain himself from wondering when he learned to kiss that way an with who but failed and, to his amazement, felt a pang of jealousy.

Right, no more cowardice, he'd allow himself to feel what he really felt whenever he felt it.

Sherlock was sitting on the sofa hands joined under his chin. He was thinking. About John.

"_What will it be Sherlock?" _

"_Erase."_

"But I can't!" he said out loud "Why can't I?" he asked the fireplace. Where was the skull when he needed it? He threw himself on the sofa and curled himself into a foetal position. He wanted John to stay with him. He needed John to stay with him. If John wanted so much to keep away from Sherlock why did he touch him that way earlier?

"Why?" he whispered.

Right, no more moaning, he had to shield himself and act with John just like he did with anybody else.

John took his shower first thing in the morning, before breakfast, before anything else. Being up didn't mean he was really awake and he needed to wake up for his shift at the surgery. Still he needed tea. When he came in the living room, Sherlock was sitting in a chair reading the morning paper.

"Hello Sherlock." He said.

Sherlock didn't answered.

"The news are good?" He persevered

No answer.

John sighed. Nothing unusual here but today he expected something else. He prepared tea and came in the living room to put Sherlock's mug on the coffee table. He froze when he saw a steaming mug of tea already in front of Sherlock.

"Sherlock you made tea?" He checked the coffee table and the kitchen and found that, except for the ones he made, there was no other cup of tea in either room. "But just for you?"

"I was thirsty." The detective said while keeping on reading the paper.

"I am too!"

"Good you made two cups then."

"Right..." John frowned "Is your face okay?"

"My face is part blue, John. Obviously it's not okay."

"Got up the wrong side of the bed this morning?" John mumbled.

"I don't believe in superstitions."

"Okay..."

John drank his tea and put his jacket on.

"I'm going to work." He said folding down his collar. He made a face, his hand hurt, he'd have to have it checked just to be sure. He threw a last look at the impassive man and went out.

When he arrived at the surgery he asked Sarah to check his hand.

"Being in a fight at your age, really, John. What did the other boy did? Stole your candies?"

"He punched Sherlock."

"Oh!" Sarah moved John's hand and the blond haired man made a face "Is Sherlock's hand cracked too?"

"My hand's cracked?"

"I'm afraid so, X-rays will confirm it."

"Shit!"

"So is it?"

"What?"

"Is Sherlock's hand broken?"

"No, he's been punched in the face."

"And you saved him like a white knight..." She smiled bitterly

"Sarah? What are you implying exactly?"

"Oh, nothing special, except that every time Sherlock needs you, you rush up."

"And it's a problem because...?" John glared at Sarah.

"It's a problem because it makes you look at me like that." She answered. She sat at her desk and wrote a prescription. "There, mild painkillers. You do the X-rays and go back home with a splint. No effort for 15 days at least. Do I have to write a note for Sherlock?"

John grabbed the prescription and looked daggers at the young woman. He left without a word.

The X-rays confirmed the diagnosis.

It was around noon when he came back home. He knew Sherlock was there because he heard him play violin from the street but when he came in the sitting room, the music had stopped and Sherlock was nowhere to be seen.

"Sherlock? It's me, I came back earlier." He said loudly but nobody answered "I'm starving, do you want to eat something?" he asked and nobody answered "Of course you don't." He mumbled.

He was in no mood to go out shopping so he ate canned corned beef and crisps in front of the TV. Then he fell asleep on the sofa, it wasn't a bad place to take a nap, Sherlock was right about that. When he woke up he could see from where he was that the kitchen had been turned into a laboratory, again. But Sherlock was nowhere to be seen, again.

"What the hell is happening here?" He asked for himself. He stirred, got up and walked to the kitchen "Sherlock?" He called. Silence. He opened the fridge and found eye balls watching him from a plate stored right between the butter and a bottle of orange juice. "God! Shit!" He closed the door "Sherlock? What did I told you about body parts in the fridge!" He yelled. Silence again.

John walked to Sherlock's door and knocked.

"Sherlock are you in here?" Nothing "Sherlock?" He knocked again.

Finally the door half opened and John could see brown curled locks and the pale skin of the detective's face.

"John, would you be so kind not to force your presence on me." He said coldly.

"Force my presence..." The doctor repeated amazed but the door closed. "For god's sake" John shouted. He wanted to broke open the door but refrained himself, after all it was Sherlock's room. His hands turned into fists though and he muffled a scream "And I broke my hand for this man!" He mumbled in his way back to the sitting room. Of course he knew Sherlock never asked him to intervene in the fight, but he knew he was happy he did so as well. So why was he acting like an ice king today?

_John, really, you should keep calm sometimes. Why are you angry all the time?_ He asked to himself. _Why I am angry all the time? Maybe because I've been rejected by an ice cold bitchy sociopath two minutes ago. Yeah maybe that's why_. He answered.

_John you've been told once not to lie to yourself, maybe you should take the advice, you've been angry for a long time now? Haven't you?_ He didn't like this question and what it suggested. _Riiiight...what do you exactly want to make me say? _John suspected his own self was trying to trap him so he decided not to answer.

_So? _John made a face, God, he could be insistent sometimes.

_SO WHAT? _He shouted in his own head_. _

_Angry again? _John sighed.

"Okay..." He threw himself on a chair "I'm talking to myself now..."

_So?_ John rubbed his face.

_You're right, I'm right. Maybe it's time to start being truthful with myself._ I_ am attracted to him, right. How long have I been attracted to him?_ He needed a few more minutes to answer this one. _A long time... _He breathed deep, in an out, several times_. _

_See, it wasn't that difficult._

"So you think." he laughed lightly "So what now?"

_Hum...you told him not to try to seduce you anymore. _

_Yes..._

_You can't just throw yourself on his lap and say "Sorry honey I was wrong."_

_Especially if he is this bitchy with me._

_John, do I have to tell you everything?_

_Since I'm speaking to myself..._

"God I am a schizo..." he laughed again.

_Can't you think a little?_

_No, because now I'm scared._

_Why?_

_I'm scared Sherlock erased me as I kind of asked him to._

_Are you sure he could do that?_

_Of course he could..._

_Okay I'll let you sort this one out._

"Oh really thank you!" he almost shouted. In the living room. Alone. "Perfect, I'm good for the asylum."

Sane or not he was left with a big question to answer.

Sherlock was lying on his bed eyes closed. Being rude with people was something natural to him, not that he wanted to be rude, he just didn't bother to take care of people's feelings.

So why was he anxious about hurting John's feelings?

He wanted to go in the living room and apologise to the man, _Apologise! _

Something was really wrong here.

… … ...

Sherlock wanted to see him sleep, just like he did in the afternoon. He opened his bedroom door and listened to the noises coming from the living room. Telly. Nothing else. He walked silently in the hall and paused. John was breathing slowly, he was asleep. Sherlock kept on walking like a cat until he stopped close to the sofa.  
>He covered the blond man's hair, ears, jawline, lips, neck with languorous looks. He was etching his curves in his mind, from his shoulders to his hips. Then his arse and thighs. Why was he doing that? It was a real torture to watch the body he wouldn't touch, but he couldn't help it. He needed to steal these moments. At some point John stirred in his sleep and Sherlock took a step back. It was time to go back to his room, away from him. He turned his back to the sofa, he was about to walk out of the room but stopped at the threshold and put a hand on the door frame.<br>"I know you're awake, John." He said in a deep low voice "I won't do that again." He closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn't erase John, he couldn't act as if he was a normal person. Would he be able to go back to where their relationship was two weeks before? Would he have to let him go?

His line of thought abruptly stopped as he felt two arms surrounding his waist, pulling him in a tight embrace. John softly pressed his lips in the back of Sherlock's neck, just above his shirt's collar and the taller man opened his eyes wide.

"John?" Sherlock asked in the same low voice.

"Mmmm?" John answered kissing the same spot again.

"What are you doing?"

"I am holding you and kissing your neck." He flicked his tongue on the detective's soft skin.

"Why?" Sherlock whispered back, having John's body flatten against his affected his self control but he needed an answer.

"Because I want to." John smiled and bit lightly the pale neck.

Sherlock moaned and shifted in John's embrace, he bent his head and kissed the blond man roughly, biting his lips almost painfully.

"John, if you don't stop me," he breathed on the blond man's lips "I'm going to fuck you, right here, right now!"

"I won't stop you, not anymore."

Sherlock growled. He locked eyes with John, put his hand on his shoulders and made him sit then lie on the floor. He stretched an arm and grabbed the union jack cushion, which was on the closest chair, and put it under John's head before covering his mouth with his, kissing him hungrily. He pinned John's body to the floor with his. In spite of the blond man's words Sherlock was scared he would try to escape from him like he did so many times before.

John tangled his right hand on Sherlock's hair and rested the injured one on the small of the brown haired man's back. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Sherlock's tongue played his magic in his mouth. God, he was so skilled, John thought he could come just because of the things this man could do in his mouth with his tongue. He let out a long moan and Sherlock broke the kiss to watch his face. He stopped moving and even breathing for a minute. John moved his hand from his hair to his cheek stroking it gently.

"John..." Sherlock whispered before kissing him lightly. His hands ran along John's ribcage and he pulled at his shirt revealing white skin. He caressed it with the tip of his fingers and felt goosebumps rising. He looked back at John's face, his eyes where closed and he was biting his bottom lip. He started to unbutton the shirt, John opened his mouth a little, then his hands trailed down and he rested them on the belt buckle, John opened his eyes and looked down. The belt was quickly unbuckled, the buttons unbuttoned. Then Sherlock slowly pulled John's trousers down. John sighed, he was still watching. But he found watching frustrating and he wanted to touch. He grabbed the front of Sherlock's shirt and pulled him to his mouth and kissed him with passion. He was scared because he didn't know what would become of their friendship after having sex with Sherlock but most of all he was relieved he finally accepted the truth about himself. Sherlock wasn't the first man he'd been attracted to, but he was the only one he had dreamed of, wanted, been obsessed with, needed, been lust by and stupidly rejected. Here he was, licking Sherlock's tongue and he felt good. He tried to unbutton the handsome brown man's shirt but the splint didn't let him and he growled in frustration. Sherlock took his injured hand and sucked lazily each finger, it was so sensual and the detective's expression was so erotic that John almost spontaneously combust. Then Sherlock took of his shirt and the sight of this thin and muscular chest took John's breath away. The brown man kissed the blond one's neck and shoulder then changed direction to suck at the right then the left nipple , on his journey to the south he found John's belly button and licked it. He didn't let the frontier of John's shorts stop him, he pulled them down and looked up at the blond man's face. John was watching again. Without breaking eye contact Sherlock flicked his tongue on the tip of John's cock and the doctor's back arched. Sherlock took his length in his mouth and suck it slowly. John's cock size was above the average but Sherlock managed to take it entirely in his mouth. The man was skilled in cock sucking two. John gasped and moaned and Sherlock stopped, he didn't want the doctor to find his release this soon.

"Sherlock..." John moaned.

"Do you want me to fuck you, John?"

"Oh, God, yes!"

The tall man stood up and stretched his hands in invitation, John followed the movement and found himself crushed against Sherlock's chest and kissed lovingly, hands stroked his back, nails grazed his skin. The detective led him to the sofa and made him sit. He kissed his lips then decided it was time for him to peel off his trousers and short so he was standing naked and erected in front of John.

"You're beautiful..." John whispered and Sherlock smiled.

"And you are," he kneeled between John's legs, "desirable," he put his hands on John's waist and pulled him until his bottom reached the edge of the sofa, "tasty," he ran his tongue from John's knee to his crotch which drew out a long moan from the man's throat "the sounds you make," he put John's feet on the coffee table "and everything you do, everything you are," he fumbled under the sofa "turns me on" and found what he was searching for : a lube bottle.

Sherlock bent over John's body.

"I'll be gentle..." He whispered in his ear then pushed one lube coated finger inside John who moaned. Sherlock cupped his cheek with his other hand and licked his earlobe then pushed his finger again, really slowly, he didn't want the man under him to get scared or feel uncomfortable. He left John's ear for his nipple. He took it between his teeth, licked it, kissed it and his hand moved faster. John's right hand was now on Sherlock's head grabbing his hair.

The detective's hand went down John's body and he stroked his fully erected cock lightly, hand and finger moving at the same rhythm.

Then he removed his finger and positioned himself at John's entrance teasing a little.

"Sherlock..."

The detective pushed inside the blond haired man slowly until he was fully inside and John's back arched. He started to move easy, slow, then, when he heard John moaned again, he pushed harder and harder. It felt so good. John reached for his own cock, Sherlock covered his hand with his own tangling their fingers and they stroked. Then the brown man hit a pleasurable spot inside John and he let out a cry. He hit it again and again and the doctor screamed incoherent words while coming. Sherlock thrust a few more time then followed grunting and moaning alternatively. He fell down on John's torso. The both men were panting. John put his feet on the floor and pulled Sherlock to kiss him. They were all sweaty and sticky but couldn't care less. John rearrange their position for them to lie fully on the sofa.

Sherlock's head was resting on John's chest, he was listening his heartbeat, it was slower now and he was breathing normally. John was stroking Sherlock's hair and back absent mindedly.

"I know you're thinking, I just don't know what you are thinking about, John." The baritone said.

"I think that was a fucking good shag." John chuckled.

"Yes it was, but that's not everything you have in mind."

"Actually, no, it isn't"

"So?"

"Sherlock, I am having a good cuddling time now, can't we just shut up for a moment?"

"No, because your mind is screaming out loud, something is bothering you and I want to know what it is."

"Right," John sighed "I didn't want to spoil the moment but...Sherlock, is your curiosity satisfied?"

"What?"

"When I agreed to kiss you the other day, you told me you wanted to know if you just needed to have you're curiosity satisfied or if it was more than that. So I ask you, is you curiosity satisfied?"

"You want to know if I still want you now that I had you once?" Sherlock looked at John's face.

"If I was true I'd say it's not the question that torture me the most but, let's start with this one." Since he wanted the truth, John talked with honesty.

"I want you still. I hope it goes the same for you."

"Sherlock, do you have feelings for me?"

The brown haired man moved to face the blonde.

"Yes, I do."

"Could you give them a name?" He asked tentatively his heartbeat increased and he knew that Sherlock could feel it.

"You want to know if I love you John?"

"Obviously, that's what I'm asking, yes."

"John, do you love me?"

"That's not fair!"

"Why? Because you don't want to say it first? All right, listen to me John, I've chased you, not for fun or because I was bored, I wanted you, my body was aching for you. You rejected me and I tried to erase you but just couldn't, I tried to consider you like the rest of the common people but couldn't either. My brain wouldn't let me erase you because you are a part of me John. What just happened between us is what I expect to be the beginning of a long relationship. Because I love you, John."

He asked for it, now he'd have to deal with it. His heartbeat increased again. His chest was about to explode.

_Don't lie to yourself, John!_

"I love you too..."

"I know, you have a traitor in your chest." Sherlock smiled then leaned closer to kiss him. The doctor held the detective close and kissed him back.

"Is your hand broken?" The detective asked stroking the splint lightly.

"Just cracked," the blond man answered "how is your face?"

"Still blue, obviously." Sherlock smiled "John, I never said thank you for saving me from this moron of Anderson."

"Saving isn't the word..."

"Still, thank you John."

"Nobody should be able to hurt you and nobody ever will, not when I'm with you, not if I can interfere. If these policemen didn't stop me I don't know if I had stopped hitting that piece of shit..."

"I'm all right John. Thanks to you I'm all right." Sherlock cut John off before kissing him soft and slow.

"If you keep on kissing me soft or hard, you won't leave the sofa or the bed for at least a week, you know that." John smiled.

"Is that a promise?" Sherlock answered his mouth hovering over John's.

"Yes it is." John crushed his lips on the detective's.


	4. Going public

**Boobynny60 : Happy you're happy (and Happy John and Sherlock are happy too, it will always be my favourite part of stories) - and don't forget my greediness! Keep on writing Sherpunzel :p**

**Miss Crookshanks : YEAH thank you!**

**The Science Of Seduction : I talk to myself all the time too (and never have sex with Sherlock which is sad...really sad...)**

**Watergodesskasey : Thank you. But what is the cutest? John? Sherlock? or both of them? ;)**

_All right, here comes the last chapter (I know, I know...)_

_If you are sad (and read french) I wrote another story called Clés de lecture..._

_Concerning my english stories, I'm working on the sequel of Swimming in blood and...another story (I never stop!)_

_ As always Thank You for adding me to your favourites and writing reviews it makes me sooo happy._

_ So enjoy! (and review! :) )_

_xx_

**Chapter 4 – Going public**

John opened his eyes in the early hours. He was in his bed, naked under the covers, a long white arm thrown possessively across his chest. After kissing and cuddling for hours on the sofa they've got up and ate then John pulled Sherlock up the stairs and applied himself to honour his promise.

"Hello, love." the baritone said.

John turned his head to look at the mass of black curls on the pillow and found bright blue eyes focused on him.

"Did I hear you call me love?"

"Don't you like to be pet named?"

"Well, I do, but being pet named by you is kind of surrealistic." John smiled.

"I found it appropriate, but if you don't like it..."

"No, no, no, that's good, really good." John cupped Sherlock's cheek with is right hand and run his thumb on his lips. "Maybe we should tell Mrs Hudson we are together now, because, it might give her a heart attack to hear you call me love without warning." John chuckled.

"John, after tonight, I think she knows, actually, I think the whole neighbourhood knows." He kissed the lingering thumb. John opened his eyes wide.

"Oh God, have we been this noisy?"

"I'm afraid so, yes." Sherlock laughed and John's face turned bright red "Is it a problem if people know we are a couple now?"

"Ah, no. Everything is quite sudden, I've had no time to think about it really but," he looked right in Sherlock's eyes "I'm proud to be with you, I love you." he gently pulled the brown man's face and kissed him tenderly. "But maybe we should try to be more discrete next time, I'd like to be able to walk in the street without having the neighbours eyes on me."

"Mmmm I don't know, I like the noise you make, the words you say. I like to know they're all because of me and the things I do to you." his hand slid from John's chest to his waist. He pulled him closer for another toe curling kiss and John moaned loudly "Like this." Sherlock added with a smile on his lips.

"You're too good a kisser, that's not fair." John mumbled and Sherlock laughed at his childish expression.

"Come on, love, we need tea and shower." The detective almost jump to the floor.

John sighed and got up a little less nimbly. He put on a pyjama pant and got down the stairs. Sherlock was in the kitchen filling the kettle, he was wearing shorts under an open dressing gown. He was absolutely gorgeous and John felt ugly in comparison. Suddenly he was in the tall man's arms again.

"You're beautiful John." He whispered in his ear "You're all I want." He licked the earlobe and John shivered. He was running his finger's along the blond man's spine when they heard Sherlock's phone chime in the sitting room and the detective growled. He kissed the tip of John's nose before going and grab his mobile. When he came back to the kitchen there where two steaming mugs on the table and John was putting bread on the toaster.

"I know we had plans for the whole week but..." He put his hands on john's shoulders.

"Case?"

"Yes"

"Of course." John smiled "What is it this time?"

"Kidnapping."

"Tea, shower then go?"

"Perfect," Sherlock kissed him again "but I texted Lestrade saying we wouldn't be there before an hour and it's not that far."

… … ...

"That's going to leave a trace." John said rubbing his neck and adjusting his collar to cover the brand new hickey he had on his skin. They were in a cab now.

"Well, yes it will." Sherlock answered matter of factly and John shook is head smiling lightly. The cab parked behind a police car. Lestrade was there talking to one of his men.

"Sherlock, here you are at last!" He said "John." He nodded and the doctor nodded back "It's a kidnapping, possibly a murder, The woman has been taken in the morning. There are blood marks on the hall's floor and the stairs in front of the house. Nobody saw anything. Excuse me." he turned away and give an order to the policeman who was here, the man take the direction of the house. "Listen," he looked at them alternately "Anderson's inside, I want you to be civil, please, it's a crime scene not a boxing ring, please?"

"Sure," Sherlock smiled "Shall we?" he said gesturing in the house direction.

Lestrade frowned but opened the way for the two men.

Anderson was bent over the first step of the stairs that led to the front door collecting blood. When a pair a black shoes came in his field of vision he looked up sharply and made a face.

"Don't walk on my crime scene, freak!" He hissed

"Oh please, Anderson, don't kneel." Sherlock said

"Oh you wish!" The forensic stood up and adopted an aggressive posture.

"No he doesn't!" John said watching Anderson's face, he had made quite a good job the last time and the man's face was really bruised on both side.

"What is it pet, your master let you sleep under his covers?" The forensic said tartly.

Sherlock took a step closer to Anderson and put his mouth close to his hear.

"I told Lestrade I would be civil, maybe I should introduce my knee to you balls, just to be polite?" He said in a low voice. Anderson took a step back he was about to say something – an insult probably – when Lestrade ordered him to go inside and the forensic obeyed looking daggers at Sherlock and John.

"You really should stop talking to this man." John said when Anderson and Lestrade crossed the house's threshold.

"He talked to me first." Sherlock said childishly and John looked at him, a look that said 'don't be a child about it' and the detective sighed.

"All right love." He whispered while grabbing his waist and pulling him close, kissing him passionately. Suddenly the world stopped moving, policemen, forensics even Lestrade who was back in the threshold mouth open wide.

"I think people are watching us." John was a little breathless and shaking.

"Is that a problem?" Sherlock asked concerned. John looked at his face and smiled.

"Of course not!" He answered then kissed the brown man again "Lestrade is going to swallow a fly, maybe we should go inside, solve the case and go back home."

They solved the case.

And went back home.

(the end?)


	5. Epilogue

_Watergoddesskasey : I'm happy you liked it :)_  
><em>LaTil : I really forgot to change the status...but since I've been asked to give an epilogue to this story … :)<em>  
><em>Miss Crookshanks : I love to hate Anderson :) (Thank you for the lemon squares :))<em>

_To maggiecon, SarahTee and Boobunny60 (who is as greedy as me) because you asked... here comes a short epilogue to this story..._

_Remember you asked for it!_

_xx_

**Epilogue**

"I've been told you were quite close to each other." Asking Mycroft how he knew things was a complete loss of time.

"I love the way you use euphemism. It's a gift, isn't it?" Sherlock said tartly "John is my boyfriend. You should start using this word."

"Well, brother, congratulations."

"Ah, sorry, should I go out? Because, the boyfriend is here you know, and he can hear you." John, who was sitting on the couch next to Sherlock pretended to get up and the detective stopped him winding his arm around his waist.

"Come on John, don't be touchy. You know Mycroft is here to show he has a lot of power, and eyes everywhere. He is so scared I could forget it."

"I know that, I just think I don't have to witness it."

"Come here, love." Sherlock said pulling his lover close and kissing him lightly on the mouth.

"Right," Mycroft coughed, "I don't want to overstay your welcome."

"Being welcome is the first step for overstaying it." Sherlock said is voice cold and low.

"It's been nice seeing you, John. I'd be please to see you at the mansion, for diner, soon."

"This would be... interesting..." John said before his mouth was stolen by Sherlock's.

Mycroft left the room unnoticed since the two men were completely absorbed in what they were doing.

"How rude of you that was, Sherlock!" John was laying on the couch with Sherlock on his chest kissing his neck.

"What?"

"The way you talked to your brother."

"Why would you care? My brother is an arse who needs to show how important he is. He is boring and useless..."

"You can think whatever you want about your brother but I don't want him to hate me. He is your only brother, and, as stupid as it seems, I need to know he likes me."

Sherlock watched his lover's face and smiled.

"At least I made it official. You are my boyfriend."

"Yes, you did, maybe we should tell it to everybody," John laughed "I mean, tell, not just kiss frantically in front of everyone we know to make them understand."

"Maybe we can do more."

"What do you mean?"

Sherlock crawled along his lover's body so he could look right in his eyes.

"Will you marry me John?"

John forgot how to breath for a moment. He wasn't sure he heard well but Sherlock's impatient look proved him so.

"Yes, I will."

Sherlock kissed him again, lovingly. Mouth, neck, jawline then his earlobe.

"Shall we have the honeymoon now?" He whispered in his lover's ear.

"Oh, God, Yes!"

**(The end!)**


End file.
